


After The Reception

by Nomanono, Sintina



Series: Voyage à Trois [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Communication Failure, Drunk Sex, Gratuitous Smut, Hot Springs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Katsuki Yuuri, Threesome, Who's Your Eros?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomanono/pseuds/Nomanono, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintina/pseuds/Sintina
Summary: Chris never expected to play such anactiverole after Victor and Yuuri's wedding reception. This was quite an expansion of the Best Man job description.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another collaboration from Sin & Noms! The naughty one - the one you've been waiting for! Most definitely the first of many.
> 
> Character wise, this fic comes from the same storyline as [The Early, Awkward Years](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9243098) (Chris and Victor's ever-so-awkward sexual history) and [A Different Kind of Coaching](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9124666) (Which happens a while after this fic, once Victor and Yuuri's relationship is well established).

A second dip in the hot springs? 

That was a bad idea and Yuuri laughed it off.

But Victor and Chris grew increasingly persistent. They knew all the right things to say. 

They’d worn him down in the hours since the entire reception party enjoyed the springs together. Everyone laughed and drank, generally making a mess of his family’s valuable real estate. That was worth it, though; it was fun. Over the years, he’d told most of his skater family about the hot springs and they’d all expressed desire to go. But it was that kind of “we need to do that together one day!” enthusiasm which usually couldn’t be followed up in reality. 

Now, here they all were, partying at Yu-Topia together. It was a dream come true for Yuuri, and he was having one of the best times of his life. 

After everyone got out of the springs, languid and loose and comfortably chill, they all began lounging around the lobby and common areas in smaller and smaller groups. The drinking group started large and then shrank progressively. First, those who couldn’t pace themselves by drinking a very small amount over a very long time (the preferred drinking method of Chris and Yuuri) dropped away from the booze table and off to other parts unknown. 

Then, the hangers-on were those who thought they could handle imbibing large quantities while also staying mostly coherent, the way Victor could. That cadre began passing out in various states of dress in locations that became more random over time. Someone was asleep on the kitchen floor, for instance. Phichit fell asleep draped on Yurio’s shoulder, who was playing video games, entertaining a dwindling audience. The tiger was not pleased about his new accessory and kept trying to shrug him off, at which point Phichit ended up asleep half in Yuri’s lap. There the Thai remained, much to the amusement of anyone with a camera. 

Throughout the drinking portion of the festivities, the idea of getting back in the hot springs came up again and again, regardless of the crowd. But it wasn’t until Chris was the last guest imbibing - besides the newlyweds, of course, the legends of Victor and Yuuri’s drinking prowess were true - that Yuuri finally caved. 

And they only had to step over one passed out body to get there.

The mist of the hot spring wafted up against Yuuri’s face, making his already red cheeks sparkle with moisture. He took momentary pride that his glasses weren’t fogging up. On other long drinking nights with Victor, he’d forgotten to take them off before going out to the spring, much to his husband’s amusement. Tonight Yuuri remembered to take them off and put them in a locker, without so much as a reminder from his husband. The trick was going to be remembering where the heck the damn things were tomorrow morning.

But that was a problem for future Yuuri and Victor.   

He stepped in, and oh, this was a _great_ idea. The natural soreness of intoxicated, dehydrated muscles began to fade almost instantly. He sank in with his usual sigh of ecstasy.

“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” Victor fawned, playing with Yuuri’s hair. Chris came up flush against Yuuri’s opposite side, following Victor’s lead. Chris and Victor were always touchy, moreso with alcohol in their systems, and Yuuri had even been the unfortunate victim of these untoward attentions before. He blanched at the memory of soppy Barcelona bed sheets piled by the door after these two oversexed idiots came in dripping and freezing from the pool. Yes, Yuuri was accustomed to their combined flirtations and wandering hands.  

But never quite like this. 

Not knowing what he knew now. 

Victor and Chris had been lovers for, as far as Yuuri had gathered from the occasional snippets Victor dropped, most of Victor’s time as reigning World Champion. They’d never officially dated, but Chris had been Victor’s first and, if Chris’ occasional drunken stories were to be believed, it was something of an embarrassing beginning. However, over the course of their years in and out of bed together, the pair had managed to do far more than Victor and Yuuri had, yet. And Yuuri just recently learned they hadn’t always been alone when they did it.

 _That_ more than anything had been a difficult pill for Yuuri to swallow, but in the past few weeks, as he’d had a chance to really enjoy his husband’s body, he’d found himself increasingly moving from disgust to intrigue on the topic. He’d tried to ask follow up questions, with mixed results. Victor was being too protective of what he assumed were Yuuri’s delicate sensibilities. 

Chris’ fingers splayed out over Yuuri’s chest, bringing him back to the moment. They started near his sternum and slid down beneath the warm lip of sea-green water.

Yuuri wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“Even cuter than you were at his age, baby bee,” Chris purred.

“Ch-chris!” Yuuri stuttered, and Chris brought his hand back up from the depths, eyes sparkling with innocence.

“He’s not as outgoing as you were, though,” Chris mused. “But at least I didn't have to schedule this…”

“You had to schedule?” Yuuri balked.

“I still have the invites on my calendar, if you go back far enough,” Chris smirked.

Victor started kissing Yuuri’s cheek, and Yuuri gasped as he felt Chris’ tongue on his ear.

“B-Bb!” Yuuri stammered. Victor tried to pet the nervousness away, stroking dry hair with a wet hand and pulling at the dark, newly damp tendrils. 

“Chris’ hands are quite nice, aren’t they?” Victor whispered into Yuuri’s ear. “Not the same as yours, of course, but he has such long fingers…” Chris brought a hand to Victor’s cheek, stroking, and Victor’s lips parted as Chris’ fingers brushed over them.

Two of his digits slid into Victor’s mouth.

Yuuri never acknowledged how regularly he’d longed for NSFW videos or photos of Victor Nikiforov to surface during his fanboy days. Since all his wildest Victor dreams came true, since his real life overtook the fantasy, he’d all but forgotten he’d ever desired such a thing. But the first conscious thought his feeble mind could conjure upon seeing his husband suckle the fingers of another man was: 

“I would’ve paid so much money for this a few years ago.” 

The saliva dribble making its way down Victor’s chin begged to be licked away. 

“What do you think, Yuuri?” Chris distracted him from his contemplation of that drool, deep baritone thrumming right next to Yuuri’s ear. The vibrations made his whole body shudder like the bass at a club. 

Chris had an idea what Yuuri thought of this display and moved his fingers flat and deeper, pressing in on Victor’s tongue, which forced an involuntary gulping sound from the throat of Yuuri’s husband. 

“F-fingers,” Yuuri stuttered, staring. 

Chris chuckled, kissing Yuuri’s cheek, and pulled away, slick and dripping, from Victor’s mouth. 

“Want to feel his fingers?” Victor asked, petting the slick hair, grown increasingly wet as the hot spring steam clung and bunched into beads of water along it. Yuuri’s mouth opened, closed. 

“You have to say yes before he’ll do it,” Victor coaxed, nibbling on his husband’s ear. “Or Chris and I could share. One of my fingers, one of his?”

“Ooh! An internal trist?” Chris beamed. He’d done that once before, but never with a couple so wonderful as Victor and Yuuri.

Victor’s hand disappeared beneath the blue green, until Yuuri yelped. Calling this their reception wasn’t really fair - they’d been married for months now, unknown to most, and had had plenty of time to contemplate and enjoy each other’s bodies. But whenever Victor opened Yuuri - with his fingers, with his cock, that one time with his tongue… it still made Yuuri feel like a virgin. Hopelessly aroused. Excited, euphoric, and filled with wonder at what might come next.

“Can Chris join me?” Victor asked while Yuuri counted the bumps of joints - first knuckle, second knuckle - sliding into him. 

“ _S'il te plaît_ , Yuuri?” 

It might’ve taken a miracle for Yuuri to turn any redder, and while he was still utterly inarticulate he did manage to nod his head.

“Let’s see if he’s as delicate as you were, baby bee,” Chris crooned, and Yuuri was surprised at how terrifyingly electric those words were - especially coupled with the gradual descent of Chris’ hand into the pool. 

The water fogged right around Yuuri’s crotch, and by the time he lost sight of everything past Chris’ wrist he was virtually vibrating with anticipation. 

Victor nudging at his prostate didn’t help. Yuuri’s entire body clenched around that sensation, as always. Harder still, because of the proximity of Chris and everything laden in the potential of his presence.

“Can he kiss you?” Victor asked. “I want to see him kiss you. I think you’ll like how he kisses.”

“I --” 

Yuuri found a sudden spark of courage - or, again, maybe that was just Victor’s incessant internal massage - and pushed forward, snaring Chris’ lips. He had a split second to enjoy it before he was gasping again as a second finger joined the first inside his body. 

“Victor, you’re hogging all the prime real estate,” Chris chided.

“There’s plenty of room for both of us, _dent de lion_ ,” Victor teased. “You just keep kissing.”

It wasn’t until the pad of Chris’ finger joined Victor’s in gingerly assaulting his electric bundle of nerves that Yuuri leaned forward, almost rising off the buried fingers as he braced a hand on Chris’ shoulder and kissed him properly. 

Yuuri expected to hate the prickle of Chris’ scruffy goatee, but instead of the hard, stubbly needles he’d imagined he found the wispy fluff rather soft as it brushed above his upper lip. 

Yuuri had not kissed two different men in the span of a few minutes before. The difference was striking. He knew, logically, that no two mouths felt the same, but never had the chance to experience just how very different kissing could be in sequence. Chris opened for him in a fuller, thicker way than Victor ever could. Victor had many grand and glorious qualities, but thick purses for lips? Not one of them. And Chris’ tongue. It dove and bobbed and weaved in ways Victor’s didn’t. Yuuri luxuriated in the wetness of this kiss. He’d kissed a wet mouth before, once, but the contrast to the smooth subtly of Victor’s tongue and cheeks was impressive, and not in any way a turn off. 

He smiled in the kiss. Of course every part of Chris was constantly wet and ready! Yuuri’s well-trained Eros mind immediately considered how this moist, plush, full mouth would feel on more sensitive skin. 

And that was the last coherent thought he had before the more bestial sexual desire took over, summoned from the interplay of fingers within him. 

Chris clearly had something to prove with both his fingers and his tongue. Yuuri could feel the competition inside his straining cavity. He knew Chris’ experiences with Victor weren’t all good, but he’d never considered that perhaps Chris took the badness personally. It certainly seemed like it. The fingers inside of him danced in a way that would be disqualified on the ice: too much aggression, too little synchronicity. Not that it mattered to Yuuri. They were dueling for his pleasure, and he rewarded them with writhing full-body spasms, unholy moans, and grunts of such gratitude he’d never know how to speak in words. 

It had to be illegal for this to feel so good - so illicit. Yuuri perched forward on the submerged bench, ass available for whatever twin pleasures Victor and Chris deemed appropriate. They were not going easy on him. The championship raged inside to see who could wreak more havoc on his poor nerves. 

“What do you think, Yuuri?” Victor purred, but Yuuri’s mouth was still attached to Chris’, still exploring the wet, luscious world of the Swiss skater. All he could offer was a louder-than-normal moan.

Was this really happening? 

Yuuri hadn’t ever felt particularly strong physical attraction to anyone besides Victor. He could appreciate Chris, certainly - the erotic flavor he brought to the ice could be tasted by everyone. But he’d never wanted to be intimate, not like this, until now. 

Want? 

Was that what they’d done to him? 

Yes. He wanted this now. All of it. As much as he could take, and the minuscule arrogant part of his brain believed they were woefully underestimating his capacity in that regard. They didn’t know what they’d started, these two legends of figure skating and (if rumors were to be believed) sex.  

He got onto his knees after a quick glance around the spring - even knowing that there was no one else (no one conscious at least). Victor had rented every single room for the weekend and paid for a luxurious vacation for Yuuri’s family. Under the guise of goodwill as their new son-in-law, of course, but in reality to make room, and privacy, for their friends-only celebration.

It was already worth every penny.

Was that why it felt illicit, too? Here Yuuri was, getting fingered by his husband and his rival, in his family’s home, outside beneath the stars, while his friends, some of them illegally young,  were fast asleep just inside.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be doing this.

Someone was going to wake up and come looking for them. Surely. Fuck, how long did they have?! 

He moaned into Chris mouth (Chris was still kissing him? It felt like heaven; he wasn’t even doing anything) and had a three second warning - a sharp pull back, a cry of surprise, and just enough time to see the shared look of evil between Chris and Victor before he jettisoned a stream of milky white into the water.

“ _Mon deiu_! How perfect you are!” 

“Isn’t he just?”

They both proceeded to pet and stroke and sooth Yuuri through the feelings as Yuuri’s head rolled back, his shoulder muscles melting lower down his back below the blades. He slouched in his pleasure, clavicle sinking below the water. He wanted to sink farther down on the bench, his body pulling him under into the warm as a way to relieve the pressure, the pleasure, to bathe in it, literally. But the invaders inside made such an exaggerated slouch impossible. He tried to slip down to cover his chin, get himself so low as to just barely be able to breathe, blowing bubbles with his nostrils. He huffed. He wasn’t capable of wording what he wanted them to do. In truth, he barely wanted it. 

Victor and Chris exchanged a smile over the crown of Yuuri’s head, laughing without making a sound at the mess they’d already made of him. And they were just getting started! They gave him his release, withdrawing and rolling their palms up his spine as he luxuriated deeper into the warm, soothing embrace of the hot spring.    

“Now that we’ve taken the edge off, it’s time for the main event, don’t you think?” Victor asked no one but Chris. 

Yuuri bubbled beneath the water, vaguely aware that decisions were being made for him and trying to decide if he cared. His logical faculties weren’t making much progress through the haze of his pleasure and the lingering echoes of orgasm.

“You’re the ringmaster, _Vicchan_.” The name sounded extra ridiculous in Chris’ attempt at Japanese while drunk. “I stand ready in the wings for your cue.” He snuggled an arm around Yuuri to reach for Victor. His fingers managed a squeeze of the Russian’s upper shoulder meat. He was many things, but he wasn’t a man to try and intrude on the (as far as he knew - the elopement details were few and far between) honeymoon of his two best friends. Everything so far counted as foreplay to Chris. If he was invited in on the main event, he needed to know what role he was going to play, and for how long.  

“Yuuri,” Victor murmured, lips so close to his husband’s almost-submerged ear. Their first conversation about Chris had gone… poorly… but as Yuuri had adapted to the idea of Victor and Chris being exes - or simply increasingly infrequent friends-with-benefits - he’d grown curious. Curious about what they’d done. Curious about who they’d done it with. 

He’d been uneasy the first time Victor mentioned their group encounters, and yet the questions had continued, beyond Victor’s patience to discuss the literal ins and outs. Finally, Victor had needed to pin Yuuri down, bedding him like a beast, to put him to sleep. 

Yuuri was coming back to consciousness and recognition of the negotiation, silent or not, that was occurring around him. 

“Yes,” he said definitively, and with authority.  

Chris looked at Victor with raised eyebrows, pulling back, ever so slightly, from his embrace of the pair. He wasn’t yet familiar with the many tones in which Yuuri could imply a multitude of emotion in a single syllable. 

But Victor knew, knew instantly that mixture of determination and curiosity that burned behind Yuuri’s brown eyes.

Yuuri wanted this. 

He’d wanted this for some time, if he was honest with himself. And he’d just cum all over his family’s primary source of income to prove how very into it he truly was. 

“You two have no idea…” Yuuri began, and then only chuckled. He opened his eyes to gaze at the pair: “Let’s remember tonight.”

It was part challenge, part promise, and one hundred percent permission. 

Victor’s smile nearly split his face in two.

“Have you been practicing your lifts, _homme fort_?” Victor teased Chris, his French accent rather superior to Chris’ Japanese one, even while intoxicated, the cocky pride of this fact evident in his grin.  

He winked: that beautiful, charming, Victor Nikiforov wink, and the next minute water was pouring off Yuuri’s equally beautiful naked body as Chris hefted him up out of the spring.

“He’s too heavy for you, baby bee.” Chris stepped, dripping, onto the smooth pavement. Victor couldn’t help but watch the way those long leg muscles flexed with the effort. “You should consider your elderly knees before your silly exhibition show-off goes too far.” 

“Oh Chris, you know lifts are all about _momentum_ ,” Victor teased right back, arm sliding briefly around Chris’ waist before he did a pirouette around the pair. “This way, darling.” He flagged Chris not towards the entrance to the lockers - that would take them past Phichit and Yuri - but towards the back door that led into a disused hall.

Chris enjoyed holding the prone body of Victor’s newly minted husband a little too much. It didn’t help that Yuuri was fully along for this ride. The young man arched up in his bridal carry pose to wrap his arms around Chris’ too big shoulders and kiss from his clavicle to his ear, then repeat the process on the other side! This was when Chris felt his first lance of surprise. Yuuri was clearly smiling throughout, knowing this was a tease, and Chris even heard Victor chuckle. What was going to happen to him tonight? Had he grossly misread the innocence of ice skating’s favorite pair? 

Too late now. 

He slid a couple fingers in and out of Yuuri’s sensitive under-knee flesh, testing a theory. The kisses stopped immediately as the little newlywed yelped and giggled. 

Victor scoffed. “Too loud!” He hissed, though it wasn’t at all. They’d passed the point in his navigation where anyone from the common area could hear them.  

“Here,” Victor said, sliding a door aside to reveal the large suite.

Chris took in the simple elegance of traditional austere Japanese aesthetic. Just the right pops of fresh green plant here and there, otherwise cool clean lines of wood in soft tones. There was a sitting area with plush floor cushions and a dresser topped by a broad mirror. Chris mused that in any other honeymoon suite, that mirror would have been positioned for a clear view of the bed. Not so in small town, Japan. Oh well. When in Rome. 

The bed stretched across most of one wall, decorated in pale covers Yuuri had washed god knows how many times over the course of his life. 

Yuuri loved this room. Now he was going to make some ridiculously surreal memories here. His current recollections included elaborate games of hide and seek when he and Mari were younger, so much younger. Oh man. Next time he and Victor had a honeymoon, (would that be their third? But who’s counting?), they’d have to go somewhere he didn’t spend seventeen years of childhood. He knew there would be yet another honeymoon. He was married to Russia’s most eccentric man. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t already booked the next one. Possibly only because Phichit had been so very, very proud of helping organize this one. 

Phichit could not know about the next one. 

Yuuri landed with a thud on the bed. He was proud of himself for bouncing one solid time. The mattresses were still in good shape. 

That would be useful tonight, he was certain of it. 

Victor distributed towels, even if most of the moisture had slicked off their bodies on the journey over. Yuuri scrubbed his skin free, tousled his hair, and tossed the towel aside without a care.

He crawled backwards, crab like, on the bed, only to have the matching lions crawl after him, their lust all but mirrored. 

With a bemused smile, Yuuri thought of a trip to the zoo and how very different the two felines looked. He was transported there as the prowling kings came toward him: one long and lean and so very taut and ferocious, the other bulky and buldging and ready to rip his prey apart. The first would be good at chasing and trapping, all dexterity and speed. The second would do the pinning, holding the prey still while they both went in for the kill. 

Before Yuuri could continue this alcohol-induced line of thought to the logical place of manes and flicking tails, their hands were on him and there was no more room for comparison to paws and claws. The fingers and nails were too human, so very male, so fierce, but not bestial. He couldn’t wait for these touches to continue and reached up, one hand for each of his captors. 

“I feared I was lacking something,“ Chris confessed. “I have to admit, I wondered what was so special about him.” The Swiss’ large hand closed around Yuuri’s ankle, pulling until the young man’s body was stretched out vulnerable for their devouring on the bed. “Now I’m upset you got to him first, baby bee.”

“But you know I love to share,” Victor cooed, sliding up behind Yuuri’s head and hooking his hands under the man’s arms to keep his body taut. Yuuri wound up drawn between them, showing off the twisting sinews and sculpted musculature he’d spent his life cultivating to honor the ice.

Chris held his ankle tight, bending until his teeth could sink into the soft skin there. He thought he’d get a yelp of dismay, a jerk of ticklish skin, and was surprised to look up and see a smirk of satisfaction on Yuuri’s face. 

That was not what he expected from the anxious Japanese skater - but then, Eros had surprised everyone. Chris never imagined, or tried not to imagine, Yuuri in the bedroom. But when he did, he could only picture Victor using all the myriad of lessons he’d learned _from Chris_ on a new, less experienced, lover. Like Victor was the suave and knowledgeable one in bed. It infuriated him at first, thinking how much power his ex must have had over the supple young virgin. But now, oh now, he was already seeing that his imagination had it all wrong. Victor was no more in control here than he’d ever been in the “banned words” days. He was wrapped around the finger, and the cock, of this scintillating, undulating specimen of a fully formed fuck doll, conversely displaying characteristics of a curious dom. Was Yuuri an eager switch after all? Chris couldn’t tell for sure, yet. But he knew he wanted to know. 

It was so maddening to experience, this paradox of sex before him. And the young skater clearly wanted so much more! He couldn’t imagine dealing with someone like this all day, every day. Being married to a man who could come not five minutes ago and then carry right along into bed, as if he were insatiable! Chris was so appreciative to be invited to partake, even once, he’d have to come up with a far more expensive wedding gift than the matching oven mitts wrapped somewhere in the den with his name on them. 

“Victor,” Yuuri murmured, as he craned his neck to gaze at his lover. “Tell me about his mouth.” 

This, as Chris continued to move it up Yuuri’s body, damp skin cleaned by roving lips and the brush of a dirty-blonde goatee. Sure, Yuuri was experiencing it plenty, but he wanted to hear Victor’s description. 

“Mine’s better,” Victor smirked. 

“Only because I trained you,” Chris countered. God, Yuuri couldn’t wait to hear so much more of this story. He was _this close_ to stopping their threesome and sitting cross-legged on the bed for Chris’ embarrassing Victor storytime! He could listen until dawn and believed the stories would take that long. 

Victor laughed. “I remember how you looked the first time I had my mouth around your cock.” 

“Like a man desperately trying to eke some pleasure out of the most painfully awkward sexual experience of his life?” Chris never moved his face from Yuuri’s skin, kissing these words into Victor’s new lover, somehow making the tease sweeter still. 

Victor glanced down at his husband, whose body was still arcing towards and against Chris’ increasingly high kisses and the drag of his teeth. He made it to Yuuri’s knees before Yuuri’s body twitched in reflex and his cock jumped between his legs.

“He always takes his time,” Victor murmured.

“Savoring the layers of flavor is an important part of all cuisine, _mon chou_ ,” Victor chuckled at the name he hadn’t heard in years. “You Russians have always been too blunt,” looking up at Yuuri, “This is why no one can name a Russian meal or a famous Russian dish.” 

“Pirozhki!” Yuuri rattled, helpfully, never able to forget the meal Yuri had angrily tossed at him and then proudly watched him eat.

“Hmph. Doesn’t count. The efforts of love by a caring relative make even fried meat paste palatable.”   

“Borscht?” 

“We make _soupe de fanes de radis_ , my sweet, and ours is infinitely better in texture. You have no tongue for texture, let me assure you.”  

“You better still be talking to Victor,” Yuuri challenged, digging his nails into Chris’ shoulder meat. “I believe Japan holds more Michelin three star restaurants than France and Switzerland combined.” 

Throughout this exchange, Chris had made his way up so that his breath now thrummed over Yuuri’s thighs. 

“You both need your mouths filled,” Victor said with a fond roll of his eyes. 

He reached down, fisted his hand in Chris’ hair, and pulled the Swiss man’s lips up higher, until his mouth was pushed against the semi-hard shape of his husband’s cock. 

“Ha--” Yuuri’s cry of victory was silenced by Victor’s lips. He pulled back almost immediately, and Yuuri was about to gloat, but two things happened:

The first, Chris opened his mouth and pulled Yuuri’s cock inside it.

The second, Victor straddled Yuuri’s shoulders, lowering his own cock to Yuuri’s lips. As Yuuri moaned at the sensation Chris was providing, Victor dipped into his open mouth, and to Yuuri’s credit there was only a brief negotiation between his tongue and his cheeks before he was suckling avidly. 

At least, as much as he could while his mind reeled at what was happening between his legs.

All of that wetness? All of that liquid heat? Everything he’d imagined earlier was around his cock now, soaking him, sliding all around him, stirred by this delicious muscle of a tongue that lived in the cave of Chris’ mouth. Victor’s blow jobs were mind blowing, but this was _completely new_. He didn’t know it could be so slick and so wet. His mind flashed countless remembered locker room chortles about the wetness of a woman, something he was never interested in, but god- if it was anything like this- he could see the appeal!  

Yuuri felt like he was being eaten, savored, like he was a delicacy and Chris was the expert critic, exploring all the minute details of Yuuri’s offering. His hips lifted of their own accord, towards the bobbing strokes of Chris’ tongue, the tantalizing ridges on the roof of Chris’ mouth that he was dragging, expertly, against the head of Yuuri’s cock. 

He curled his tongue into the little envelope of Yuuri’s foreskin, something even Victor rarely dared, to track down the most concentrated taste Yuuri had to offer. Yuuri briefly felt self-conscious about it. What about the sweat and… other things… that might be under his most intimate skin? Chris certainly didn’t seem to care, even emitting a hum of pleasure as his tongue ran the circumference of Yuuri’s cock- beneath the foreskin. He remembered, somehow, that they were all just in the hot spring. Victor’s delicious dick had a hint of those metallic waters. Yuuri’s must be much the same. And he relaxed into it. 

He’d been so lost in analyzing the complex feel of Chris’ mouth that he completely forgotten his own was full of Victor! He was pretty sure he’d just gone slack above the waist while his lower half was on fire. When he looked up, blushing, he found a smile of pure amusement on Victor’s features: not an ounce disappointed that Yuuri was so thoroughly enjoying Chris’ mouth. Victor even winked down at him: it could be their secret. And Yuuri’s mouth smiled around his husband’s cock, appreciative for his understanding, and for him being wise enough to start their second honeymoon with this shared experience.  

Chris pulled off of Yuuri once he’d finally hardened in Chris’ mouth, making a show of smacking his lips together and even daintily brushing the moisture from his furry chin as he sat up between Yuuri’s legs. 

“Victor told me the katsudon here was exquisite,” Chris mused. He touched Yuuri’s cock with a thoughtful finger. “Musky. Meaty. A full mouthfeel with a lingering tang of salt. I can’t wait to taste the finishing notes.”

Yuuri turned his head away from Victor’s cock, spitting it out to respond. “You were right, Vicchan, we were getting hungry.” He was pleased with himself when both men snickered at his lame joke. The tiny twinge of pride resulted in his lips forming an unexpectedly sinful sentence: 

“As for finishing notes, you’ll both have to work much harder for a taste.” 

Why had he said that?

He blushed and tried to cover it with a challenging glare to the Swiss skater. 

“How do you keep up, Victor?” Chris asked, attempting to be mournful but the cat’s grin on his face said otherwise. 

“I don’t, of course,” Victor actually giggled, sex drunk already and giddy with alcohol. He slipped to the side, making room for Yuuri to sit up, smiling heart-shaped and inviting at his husband.  

Yuuri tried, pushing up on his hands, but Chris set a broad palm on his bare chest, holding him back, pushing him down again.

“Oh no, handsome. Don’t you dare assume, just because my homeland is a pacifist nation, I would _ever_ turn down a challenge like yours,” Chris explained, earning him an illicit smirk from his captive and an appreciative growl from Victor. “Besides, I want to try the rest of the dish.”

That wet, full mouth descended once more, Chris’ body blanketing Yuuri’s.

Now, Yuuri always knew he had nipples. Intellectually, they were a part of his body that existed and functioned as unremarkable pectoral decorations. That was the end of it, really. They had never been notable visually or sensationally.

Then Chris grabbed one with his teeth, and Yuuri’s entire perspective changed. 

He choked. 

“Vic--!” he started on instinct, but Victor was above him, sliding his fingernails over Chris’ back. It was the Swiss man’s mouth unlocking new worlds.

Chris’ curls were absolutely perfect for knotting one’s fingers in, and Yuuri took full advantage of the leverage as his ribcage lifted towards Chris’ mouth and he fisted Chris’ head against the skin. 

“We have a winner,” Chris mumbled against Yuuri’s nipple as he lapped the now very hard nub. The other he fondled with his fingers, swiveling his thumb across until it grew rigid enough to pinch. He squeezed the morsel of flesh between his nails, then flattened his hand on Yuuri’s chest and let the pert tip notch into the groove between his digits. He rubbed his hand up and down, fingers making a track for the nipple to slide along. At the same time, Chris brought out his teeth, holding Yuuri’s other nipple between those dangerous, sharp, sparkling points while his tongue flickered against it. 

“An excellent discovery, love,” Victor purred to Chris as he watched Yuuri’s still gleaming cock jump and twitch. “I never gave the poor things much attention.”

“You always did get too excited to move on to the next thing,” Chris chided Victor as he switched, fingers moving to tender the wet nipple while Chris drowned the other in his mouth. 

“What did I teach you about savoring, baby bee?” Chris murmured around Yuuri’s skin.

“Tell me again,” Victor teased, and Yuuri finally, through the haze of all these new sensations, realized that Victor’s hand had moved around Chris, under Chris, between Chris’ legs. 

“Go slow.” The vibrations of Chris’ baritone made Yuuri tremble. “Take your time.” As Chris said this he paused to blow across the wetness on both Yuuri’s nipples, chilling them and making his cute little areolas prickle like goose flesh.

He lowered his lips oh-so-close to Yuuri’s skin, whispering, “Waiting is half the fun.” He opened his mouth like he was going to take Yuuri’s nipple in again, then stopped, lifted his eyes to Yuuri, and only when Yuuri met them and bit his lip, did Chris finally descend. 

The newlywed gasped and his nails dug into Chris’ shoulder blades, his scalp. He felt more than heard the groan in response, the physical rumble of Chris’ bass into his sensitive, quivering skin. He wanted to say Chris’ name, but when he opened his mouth there was just a guttural, embarrassing animal noise.

Chris pulled back, his expression at once fond and cocky, fueled by Yuuri’s vocal feedback. 

Victor was behind Chris, kneeling, arms around his waist, teeth at Chris’ neck. Chris reached back, arching into Victor as he grabbed that silver hair and stared straight at Yuuri like a dog being pet by a visitor in front of its owner. Victor’s hands were between Chris’ legs, one fondling and tickling at the heavy, wrinkled sac and the other stroking in time down the length of Chris’ cock. His skin looked so bronzed next to Victor’s, and his cock was a gorgeous pink-red from all the blood keeping it curved skyward. 

Yuuri bit his lip, staring, and found Victor returning the heady look over Chris’ shoulder. They were pleasuring each other, wound up in each other’s touch, but their eyes were on Yuuri. 

They were putting on a show for him. 

Yuuri decided to return the favor. 

He reached back on instinct to where they’d kept the lube in their honeymoon guest bed, then blushed on realizing that no such thing existed in Yu-Topia. 

“Give me your fingers,” Chris suggested, seeing the expressions wash over Yuuri’s face. 

Yuuri sat up, dry lips sticking together for a moment before they parted in anticipation, and put his fingers to Chris’ mouth the same way Chris had invaded Victor’s earlier. Yuuri felt the weight of the staring pair as the slick, slimy muscle of Chris’ tongue undulated along his digits. 

When Yuuri pulled his fingers back they were drenched, and Chris had that same confident half-smile. 

_Don’t lose your nerve!_ Yuuri cursed himself. He laid on his side, tucking his legs up, and brought his lubricated fingers to his ass.

Victor and Chris both groaned in sympathy as Yuuri’s middle and index finger locked together and pushed on his asshole. Yuuri arched his ass out, twisting his back to really show off the curve as his fingertips broke the resistance and the muscle, concave from the pressure, slicked open.

“Nnn,” Yuuri moaned, face a wince of pleasure, subtly exaggerated for his viewers’ enjoyment. Neither of the two could keep their eyes off his performance, even as Chris curled his fingers against Victor’s scalp, reaching back to grab his ass, even as Victor was jerking Chris off. The need for both of them to touch Yuuri was palpable. 

Their show pony smiled, knowingly. As he lavished attention on his tight coil inside, the young man could barely control the muscles of his legs as they flexed and fought to straighten, his knees clenched, reached for a stretch, but he pulled them in. Stretching out would hide the show. And Yuuri couldn’t have that. He saw their eyes flick once or twice to the struggling sinews of his legs, the twitches in time with his internal palpitations. His body a puppet strung too tight, unable to flail about, no matter how hard the puppeteer flicked his wrist.

And his audience positively marveled at his self-control. On his side, Yuuri couldn’t even grind his throbbing, needy cock into the sheets. It was a display of simultaneous self-fulfillment and denial. And neither of them had seen anything quite like it. Yuuri gasped for their pleasure and ground himself as deep as he could down onto those too-short fingers of his.  

Chris’ mouth hung worshipful, becoming dry for the first time that night. He and Victor’s hands still clutched and held one another’s skin, but the ghosts of movement had faded, sucked into the show. 

Victor snapped out of it, finally, upon his mind making a quick comparison between the slow, smooth stretch of Yuuri’s tight muscle and the width held in his own palm. 

“You’re going to need more fingers, Yuuri,” Victor purred. “To handle Chris.”

Again that cocky Eros smirk. 

“Should we help him, baby bee?” Chris offered, bringing a finger to his lips and trying to wet it, not as easy as before.

Victor, instead, reached over both of them to the nightstand Yuuri had originally groped towards. He opened the drawer, finding the lube he’d stashed, and Yuuri gave him a chiding swat for not telling him earlier.

“What?” Victor beamed his innocence. “I enjoyed the show.”

Yuuri didn’t even have time to be grumpy. Victor slicked his finger and Yuuri gasped as both of them came down on him. He felt Victor’s finger slide in alongside his, but the addition of Chris’ made his body jump, stunned at the sudden stretch. He’d never taken four fingers before. It wasn’t just the width. The dexterity and agility of four fingers was so very different from a toy of comparable girth. The consciousness, the deliberate intent of living intrusion- he pedaled his own fingers and theirs matched him! 

Whatever came out of Yuuri’s throat was somewhere between a cry and a moan, a desperate expression of -- of what? 

Want? Need? 

Yuuri pulled his fingers free. It was becoming more and more apparent at this point in the proceedings that someone needed to be inside him. Victor and Chris continued their collaborative assault, twisting and stretching, but no one could deny he was ready, slick and spongy, to handle either of them. 

He arched for them, on the cusp of openly begging to be taken, _now dammit!_ The assault was everything he needed to be physically comfortable with their upcoming acts, but not nearly enough to feel any sort of satisfaction. The pair of men teased without hitting the right spot inside, and Yuuri was certain it was intentional.  

His dry fingers wove together with Victor’s, the stickier hand kneading near-bruises into the brawn of Chris’ upper thigh, knelt and bulged beside him. He realized without looking that his two bed mates were also slicking themselves eagerly for the task at hand - or rather, Chris was managing it with his free hand for both of them. Yuuri smiled up at his handsome men, a fondness and friendliness in his eyes, very pleased with himself for how hard he’d made both these dazzling Adonises. 

“Husbands first,” Yuuri answered the question in both pairs of eyes above.  

Victor rolled Yuuri to his back, lifted Yuuri’s hips. Yuuri helped, pressing his feet into the mattress and rising readily. Chris slid a pillow under Yuuri’s hips, his hands luxuriating in the eager tension of Yuuri’s impatient musculature. Victor’s gripping thumbs circled each side of his husband’s inner thighs, and he looked down as he centered. Yuuri exhaled a breath of air through pursed lips that came out like a whistle. This got his lover’s attention and their eyes sucked one another in as Yuuri’s body drew Victor’s first thrust down to the hilt.   

Victor groaned, eyelids clenched, teeth gritting. Then as he pulled slowly back for a second dive into Yuuri’s depths, his eyes snapped open with such intent and focus. Chris marveled at this expression on his old lover’s face. For everything he recognized in Victor’s mounting lust, there was a quality he’d never seen before, a satisfaction or adoration or… was it love? 

It had always been an adventure between Chris and Victor: a challenge, an expedition, an exploration. 

Victor had never looked at him like that. 

In this moment, as Victor’s hips started to find their path in and out, Yuuri was his whole entire world.

It was beautiful, and Chris felt his chest swell with a conflation of emotions, bittersweet happiness for his friend and appreciation for everything they’d once shared. 

And then Yuuri’s body arched, and Victor thrust hard to meet him, and arousal washed everything else away.

Chris gave Victor’s tensing and releasing ass a pinch.

“Do you still come too fast when you’re on top, baby bee?” Chris teased, hand curving around Victor’s ass as it moved, feeling every delicious flex of muscle. 

“I think you’ll find I’ve improved,” Victor huffed, breathing a little heavier as he buried himself into his husband. As if to make the point, Victor maintained a steady pace, lifting Yuuri’s legs up as he worked, running his fingers up and down the pointed limbs as Yuuri hooked them over Victor’s shoulders.

Chris took the opportunity to tease Yuuri’s nipples again, idly twirling his thumb over one before he started walking his fingers down towards Yuuri’s leaking cock. 

“Careful,” Victor mused, “you saw how quick Yuuri can be when he’s got something inside him.”

Yuuri growled and bucked. He wasn’t going to get off this easily. He’d show them. It was their own fault, getting the easy one out in the hot spring. They interpreted his actions as confirmation, however. And Chris hummed. 

“Mmm, reminds me of someone I used to sleep with.” 

“ _Are_ sleeping with,” Victor grunted the correction.

“Not at present. Perhaps we should fix that,” Chris grinned.

Victor, with impressive restraint, pulled himself out of Yuuri, making room for Chris between his husband’s legs. 

“First: Yuuri gets to try you,” Victor said. “He’s been waiting so patiently.”

And after the loss, Yuuri realized he was dying for more stimulation. He’d been maintaining a state of-   _so close_ \- but perhaps his men were right after all; a few more strokes from Victor might have thrown him over the edge. Even now, he felt the electric shocks, little after tingles as his body begged for more.

“Chris,” Yuuri murmured. His eyes found the golden green of the Swiss skater’s, gulping air as if it could sate the ravenous hunger inside. Yuuri grabbed his knees, swallowed, and slowly spread himself open in invitation.

His nerves, which had been doing so well, kicked in again, and he glanced to Victor. He didn’t mean to look needy, but Victor knew exactly what that look meant by now. 

He leaned over his husband, kissed his forehead. 

“Don’t worry,” Victor soothed as Chris got into position between his legs. “He’ll start gentle.” 

“Are you alright, sweet Yuuri-kun?” Chris asked, using the nickname he’d heard the Thai, Yuuri’s best friend, call him earlier. He watched Yuuri’s adorable reaction to this affectionate pet name on Chris’ tongue, while gliding the head of his cock slowly from Yuuri’s balls down past his asshole and back again. “You can always tell me to stop.” He gave a side-eye to Yuuri’s husband. “Victor did.”

“Just do it,” Yuuri said, the anticipation only making him more nervous. 

That was what Chris had been waiting for, and without further prompting he found the weak spot along the track he’d been riding and _pressed_. 

Yuuri groaned.

After Victor’s drilling, Yuuri’s ass had hardly any resistance left, even despite the considerable girth Chris brought to the table. He wasn’t as long as Victor - not quite - but he more than made up for it in circumference and Yuuri felt like his hips had to reseat themselves to accommodate the intrusion. 

Just when he was about to blush and turn away, hide his features beneath his hand, Victor was there, gently pressing his wrists down on either side of his head and speckling his face in delicate kisses. 

“Just let go, Yuuri,” Victor whispered in encouragement. “Enjoy it.”

Chris was taking his sweet, sweet time. He wasn’t interested in fucking - not yet. He was interested in feeling every millimeter of his cock slide through Yuuri’s asshole. It felt like molasses, sinking inevitably deeper and deeper. At every pause, Yuuri swore he must have been hilted, but Chris somehow had more.

“Chris,” Yuuri winced, not out of pain but in amazement at the way this single thrust was taking eons and somehow becoming an entire fuck in and of itself. 

And still Chris continued. 

When he stopped Yuuri was sure that amazing cock had to be in his throat by now, but all he could feel was the reassuring thickness stretching him wide.

“Good, Yuuri?” Chris asked, hand rubbing Yuuri’s obliques, up until it cupped his pectoral, scraped a nipple, and descended again. 

“Fuck me,” Yuuri whispered. “Please, fuck me?”

He looked to the side, past Victor, caught Chris’ eye again, and let his legs curl around Chris’ waist, tugging him closer, latching onto him. 

“Will you fuck me?” He asked again, but voice now tinged with desperation. 

“I thought you’d never ask, Yuuri-kun.”

When Chris finally began to move Yuuri had another revelation. He’d spent the last several months almost inseparable from Victor, getting a lifetime’s education in just a few dozen weeks. He thought he knew plenty, was prepared for what sex felt like, but he’d never actually had anyone but Victor - and the occasional skate guard - inside of him.

“It’s so….” 

“Thick? Hard? Different?” Victor grinned.

Yuuri pulled a pillow across his face, amazed yet again at the way the slight variation in shape combined with the extreme difference in personality, tempo, and approach created an entirely novel experience.

“I can’t believe it,” Yuuri mumbled, not knowing if anyone could hear him through the plush. But they very much could. His voice was not quiet. 

“Hm?” Chris asked, oblivious to Yuuri’s history and experience - or lack thereof. 

“You’re only his second, _dent de lion_ ,” Victor crooned. “He’s just had me before.”

“Ah… I’ll always come in second to you, baby bee,” Chris sighed. “Yet another gold medal while I stand with silver at your side.” 

“Where you belong,” Victor winked. “Under me.” 

He scooted from Yuuri until he was even with Chris, rubbing the man’s back as he watched his husband get fucked for the first time by a foreign cock. It was hard to describe the pride and the heart-wrenching beauty of it all. These were his two primary lovers, his past benefactor with his present and future husband, and _fuck_ if they didn’t look gorgeous together. 

“Look at you,” Victor found himself murmuring, hand between his legs, idly jerking himself off to the imagery around him.

They were so goddamn beautiful; even their skin tones seemed to coordinate.

A whuff of air escaped Victor’s throat, a disbelieving cough of amazement. Yuuri had picked up on Chris’ slow, measured rhythm and was now rising to meet the steadfast waves. He lifted his hips, sliding onto Chris’ cock like he was sitting down to dinner and then rolling himself off of it to do it all again. 

Chris had a hand under Yuuri’s waist, holding him up, helping him keep his hips elevated as the pillow rested futilely several inches shy of providing any actual support. 

They were both physical masterworks, every blink of Victor’s eyes a new, stunning photograph, a doctorate course in anatomy. 

_Look_ at them. 

“Faster now, Yuuri,” Chris warned as he started to increase the tempo. “Try to keep up. Or you can lay back and let me do the work.”

“He’s bad at staying still,” Victor smirked, with a light slap of Yuuri’s outer thigh. 

“Tsk,” Chris’ arms flexed, showing off. “He looks easy to hold down.” 

Hearing this exchange, Yuuri gasped, choked on his own air, “Please,” he pushed his pelvis, spearing himself on Chris, which got both men’s attention. They looked down to see hunger and greed in his lust-soaked irises. Through clenched teeth he demanded, “Keep talking about me!” 

Oh damn. 

“He’s a show pony, isn’t he?” Chris looked only at Victor, petting his knuckles along Yuuri’s clavicle as if appraising an animal for purchase. “You have impeccable taste, Victor.” 

“I didn’t need to see any others, really.” There was real pride in Victor’s voice. “He made sure to stand out from the crowd of beasts on display.” He shook his head in disbelief, “I simply couldn’t leave the stable with another.” 

“You could have a had any of them.” For the sake of conversing, driving Yuuri crazy with his words, Chris’ thrusts returned to their ruinous, slow, shallow speed. “But, _mon cheri_ , I think you chose the best.” 

“Look at that dip of his waist.” Victor’s fingers skimmed the curve between Yuuri’s last rib and his hip bone. “Have you seen the way any outfit, even things that are too big for him, fall into this hour glass crevice?” 

“How could I not?”  

After a drawn out slide that tantalized as though it would never sink back into Yuuri, Chris crashed down to the hilt, then continued speaking as though he weren’t fucking a man beneath him at all. 

“And these arms,” Chris pinched a piece of skin off Yuuri’s forearm. “There’s an unexpected strength under here.” The spot was red when he removed his fingers. 

“Everything about him is deceptively strong,” Victor nodded, surveying the rest of Yuuri’s musculature, “for such a small lithe man.” 

“He should be lifting you out there on the rink.” Chris ran a hand down Yuuri’s flexed thigh. “If he’s strong enough to properly pole dance, he’s more than strong enough to lift you.” 

“That’s actually the same argument Minako-sensei made!” Victor snapped them all out of the game with this line. Yuuri grunted, rolling his hips once more in Chris’ firm grip. He flexed his glutes, encasing that girthy dick with all his lauded strength. 

“Ooo!” Chris slapped the outside of Yuuri’s ass. 

“He _is_ a show off, like I said,” Victor crooned. 

“So, he’ll enjoy us putting him on center stage?” Chris cocked his head, as if unsure whether to purchase this particular stallion. 

“Oh yes.” Victor sculpted Yuuri’s sweat soaked hair. “He loves it,” and Victor kissed Chris’ shoulder, “even more than _we_ do, _dent de lion_.”

“You think so?” Chris pressed a strong palm down Yuuri’s abs, his pelvis, and up again. “Watch this, then,” and he popped his hips in rapid bursts, up and in. Yuuri’s rough shout was a battle cry, frenzied by how good this felt. They watched as his hands flew behind his head, fists bunching the pillow on either side of strained temples. Yuuri’s neck bowed and stretched to rock his skull with each thrust. It would look painful if not for the manic, open-mouth smile that sucked in his every breath.   

“Wow,” Victor’s simple response was hoarse with emotion. “He takes you so savagely,” he marveled.  

When the rhythm slowed again and Chris thrusted a more relaxed tempo, Yuuri’s eyes flashed open; he snarled and bucked until they fixated on him. In the language of sex, Chris knew to stop thrusting. Yuuri lowered his chin, glowering up at them beneath a brow like a wild beast’s. He smirked and blew a kiss. 

Then, with rippling hips, Yuuri grinded Chris’s shaft so it knocked his interior walls front to back, again and again, picking up his pace. His feet dug into the mattress. His gasps for air hissed through nostrils flared for a fight, while his tongue worked to wet parched lips. 

“ _Putain!_ ” Chris cursed, digging nails into Victor’s shoulder on one side and clawing Yuuri’s rock-hard calf with the other. 

Victor could only whistle, hand brushing his fringe back so both eyes could take this in. “You’ve done it now,” he teased, watching the shocked expressions roll over Chris’ features. 

“Does he-- ever--” Chris gasped, “ _slow down?_ ” and he fell forward onto his hands, bracing himself. 

Before Victor could answer, Yuuri responded with a peel of elation that fell into choked laughter as he not only accelerated, but switched his angles, so that his hips and ass cheeks swiveled left to right. This forced Chris’ shaft to hit the other two walls of his insides. The changeup rendered Chris speechless and gulping. 

“Watch out, _mon ami_ ,” Victor laughed. “He takes challenges worse than you do.” 

It was actually easier for Yuuri, now that Chris had fallen lower over him. Yuuri didn’t have to use extra muscle strength to grind up, and Chris’ proximity allowed Yuuri to brace himself better, get more traction, go faster. 

Victor noticed the ease with which Yuuri captured his prey and was now free to set the momentum, even more so than before. 

“He’s got you now,” he said to Chris. There was no response, but the sounds grew increasingly vulgar, bestial. 

Victor stroked himself in time with those sinful hips, fingers roving and scrolling. He imagined Yuuri’s undulations not around his own cock, but performing with those hips on the pole, in front of everyone -- with eyes only for Victor, of course, a private show in public.   

But this was more. This was the continuation of last year’s spectacle, his two men together on that pole. He almost wished he had champagne to pour over them both. He salivated, thinking of licking it away from each man’s body in turn. 

“This reminds me…” Victor started, but the sounds Yuuri made cut him off. 

The Swiss couldn’t respond to Victor anymore, either. His speech was wiped out by his need to come. Victor felt immediately that he was being left out. That just wouldn’t do. 

"Before you use Christophe all up, I think I need a turn, hmm?” Victor laid a hand on each of them to slow their progression, forcing them to come back to reality. “Yuuuurri,” Victor whined, upon getting his attention, “ _you're hogging our hunk!_ "

That line alone was enough to make Chris smirk against his impending orgasm. He’d felt like an intruder at first, a tentative wildlife explorer wary at any moment that his subjects would dart away forever. But with that line? 

It almost made Chris not want to kill the man as Victor separated their bodies, quelling the volcanic urge to release.

Yuuri was in a similar bad way, lust-crazed, nearly there, on the verge.

“Your hunk, huh?” And Chris grabbed Victor by the hip, pulled him back. "Come here, baby bee; let me give you what you need."

He was inside Victor before Yuuri could blink.

And it looked so _familiar_ to Yuuri. 

He recognized how well acquainted they were with each other's bodies. He always knew they must have had sex many times, but accepting that knowledge was a very different thing than seeing the proof of it before his eyes. Yuuri’s mind caught Chris’ height: taller than Victor in a way Yuuri never would be. Yuuri couldn’t ever curve over Victor’s back like that.

He hated it.  Oh, Yuuri _hated_ not being able to give Victor every single solitary thing in the universe.

Victor slid underneath Chris, legs spread wantonly, and made this expression of bliss like he was _home_. Of course Yuuri had seen that face before. But to see it from the outside, literally, not inside his lover himself, his role replaced by this stunt cock? It was too much. 

Yuuri choked out “Stop!” because if he didn't he'd just start sobbing. "Get off him!"

Chris did. Instantly. Against every desperate urge in his body.

Yuuri didn't move. Shell-shocked. Confused even by his own urge to put an end to this when only moments ago he’d been enjoying it _so damn much_. The knot of panic coiled his pectorals, crushing, making it so very hard to breathe. 

But Victor was there, immediately, scooping Yuuri into his arms. "Yuuri, love. My love! Are you okay?"

Yuuri clutched onto him like a teddy bear, all four limbs clinging against Victor’s side. He didn’t want to get into Victor’s lap. That felt gross at the moment, both of them stretched from Chris inside. Anger followed that thought, made him shake with it. And just as quickly it was gone, lost to the softness of Victor’s caressing fingers. 

Yuuri wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. Probably because he _was_ nothing but a bundle of feeling, just then. He was stranded without gravity, floating with no defense against the asteroids of fear, jealousy, arousal, insecurity, shame and continual desire that pummeled his mind and heart. 

He pressed his face into Victor's skin and held him like he never, ever wanted to let go and fuck, fuck, why was he so _scared_ of all freakish things? What was wrong with him? 

Victor saw all of it, though. He’d seen it so many times before, on the ice and off. He kissed Yuuri's cheek and thread fingers through his hair, down his neck, and whispered. "I love you. I'm yours. I'm all yours, Yuuri. You're my love. My husband. It's OK. This can all stop right now."

And poor sweet Chris. 

He’d been having such a fine time. He’d been so desired and so beloved. He was lusted over by both of these incredible men. And he felt like he'd fucked it all up and he shouldn't ever have agreed to this, no matter how intoxicated he might have been. _Merde alors!_ Because of course, the damn “Intoxicated” lyrics attacked him like an ear worm, so painfully perfect for this moment. It was the last straw. 

"I can... I'm going to leave..." Chris stammered.

"No!" Yuuri called.

To both of them.

He didn't want this to stop. He didn't want Chris to leave.

He just didn’t want to feel this way.

"No I --" Yuuri tried to continue, still as surprised as they were. But knowing beyond a doubt that he didn’t want to run away from this. The two men in his bed shouldn’t want to stop either. 

Chris hovered there, glancing at Victor, wondering what he should do.

But Victor didn't know either.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris and Victor hovered near Yuuri, neither knowing quite how to handle the situation. 

"What is it you want us to do, love?" Victor finally asked his husband.

Yuuri was still several mental hoops away from being able to articulate anything, but he reached for both of them, held one hand on each of their arms. He just rasped: "Wait." Then, louder: "Wait a second." And as though the effort of saying those four words had exhausted him beyond repair, he hung his head and whispered: “Please?” 

Chris and Victor looked at each other, trying to silently figure this out. Unfortunately, one of the many flaws of their old relationship was they’d never been good enough at reading one another. Plus, neither of them had ever experienced a threesome gone wrong. They were both so woefully unprepared. Victor lifted his eyes heavenward, knowing that no matter what Yuuri needed, it was his job to give it to him. But Yuuri wanted Chris to stay, so then the only answer was:

“Follow my lead?” Victor suggested, at last. He started with soft kisses and cuddles. Victor kept holding, nuzzling his partner. Chris tentatively rubbed Yuuri's shoulder, his back, trying to sooth without setting off any additional defense.

They waited. They were there for him.

Yuuri kissed Victor's temple. Yuuri’s hand found Chris' back and rubbed in return, fingertips kneading. He spoke so damn much better with his body than his stupid brain and dumb words anyway. He pulled at them both, bringing the trio together, close, two halves of a shell, with Yuuri as their pearl. 

Victor soothed. "I'm yours, Yuuri. Nothing we do will ever change that," his whisper was religious. "This is just fun. Just for us. Just to feel good together in a new way. If it doesn't feel good, we don't have to do any of it."

Yuuri nodded. He understood and agreed with what Victor was saying. He nodded harder, for emphasis, and swallowed some of the inertia of his panic. But he still couldn’t articulate. He was still trapped with this sudden monstrous insecurity and no matter how hard he’d worked to control it over the year with Victor it was always ferocious.

It was Chris who broke the silence next.

"I remember the first time I saw Victor look at you,” Chris murmured. “Really look at you." And just the promise of what was to follow began breaking Yuuri’s internal spiral.

Yuuri coughed a laugh, his mouth a smile stretching away from the choking sting of frightened tears. He leaned his head, encouraging, into Chris' shoulder as if to say, ‘tell me more.’

"No one can look so idiotic and not be madly in love," Chris smiled.

Victor elbowed him, but Chris continued.

"I knew you were different for him," Chris said, "different than the fun, playful thing he and I had."

Yuuri breathed, listening to the baritone, feeling it under his hand as he continued to rub one palm along Chris’ skin where the deep voice - and deeper sighs to calm himself - vibrated his lungs. Yuuri felt a pang of remorse for causing ever-secure Chris to be so disjointed. The soft safety these men both provided him inside their hard, strong shells was tainted by a tangible sense of fear and regret, especially on Chris’ side.

So, Yuuri began to lean with more strength into Chris, rubbing his back faster, lower, with a gentler touch, needing to thank him for staying, agreeing to work so hard to calm him down. 

Victor matched his husband’s movements, shifting his focus for just a moment to the man they’d brought to their bedroom and accidentally exposed to every raw nerve ending that pulsed beneath the heady buzz of their newfound sexuality. 

Chris was buoyed by their affection. 

He continued to speak only to Yuuri, yet knew Victor was part of the conversation. "You know why we never officially dated? We both said we loved the ice more than each other," Chris grinned. "Still do, in fact."

There was a moment in which Yuuri squeezed them both, so tight. 

"But he gave up the ice to chase you, Yuuri. And that's something no one in the world will ever come between."

Victor sniffled. But he immediately tried to play it off by chirping in Happy-Victor-Voice™: 

“Christophe! _Mon ami_ , that was so very sweet!” 

Chris shrugged. “Well, I was saving it for my best man’s speech, but _someone_ had to go off and elope!” 

Yuuri was so fucked with emotion he just finally let it all out in a choked laugh that grew in volume and intensity. He shook with it, clutching Victor and Chris harder, digging nails in that quaked with his laughter.

"I love you guys," he chortled like some stoned frat boy.

But it was true.

"I do," he confirmed. "Chris, I ah- I..." he couldn't stop this sudden verbal outpouring of relief. "I a-appreciate everything you are and have been to Victor. Thank you for being there for him all this time." The end of that sentence, which didn’t need to be said, was ‘when Victor was so alone.’ They all heard it, felt it. 

Chris choked up, dammit, and in a swift motion hugged both men to his chest. "I can't lie," he crooned, thin and strained, but regaining his signature bravado, "there were times I should have backed out. Left the hapless fool to his own sexual demise."

Yuuri wiggled in Chris’ arms and squeezed his husband’s thigh in a tease. 

"You'll have to tell me more of those stories!"

"I will," he promised, kissed Yuuri's hair. "I'll even show you the pictures, too," Chris said, managing to deadpan it.

Victor pulled out of the hug. "NO! Don't you dare!" He looked around like the pictures were physically on the bed. 

"Yes!" Yuuri rose onto his knees, grabbing both of Chris shoulders with an excitable little shake. "Please?!"

"Of course," and he gave Yuuri a full-on a kiss, which was returned with glee. "They're part of your story now." And he winked, casting a devious look over at Victor. Their Russian, to evade the embarrassment, had grabbed waters for everyone from the mini-fridge he’d stocked earlier. He spread the bottles out on the bed before his knees in a perfect fan pattern, because everything Victor touched always looked flawless. 

Yuuri followed Chris’ gaze, saw his naked husband, sheepishly grinning around the plastic mouth of a bottle he was chugging from so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed deliciously, and felt a sudden, strange kinship with Chris. Both of them had put up with his irresistible sexual foolery these past years. 

And tonight, Victor and Chris had formed a similar bond, in the trenches together, battling Yuuri’s head bully. 

"Chris," Yuuri said, his mood healed once more, his confidence returning. "I can’t imagine why, but it looks like Victor's still a bit needy.” He trailed fingernails over the slopes of Swiss biceps and triceps. Fluttering his lashes, he cooed, “You'll help him, won't you?"

Victor came around behind Chris, then, holding him gently around the waist, still apologetic for the scene he and Yuuri’s lack of communication prior to their first-ever threesome had caused. 

Chris leaned his head back to nuzzle Victor, but kept his eyes on Yuuri, replying: "At your command, _mon capitaine_." 

Before either of them could act on their newest impulses, Victor bit Chris’ earlobe. 

“Ah, ah, boys,” his silver tongue curled, “hydrate first!” 

If Victor was getting properly fucked tonight, he wasn’t going to call the paramedics in the middle of it. They’d had enough drama for one sexual encounter, thank you. 

Yuuri and Chris destroyed the pretty peacock feathers of Victor’s water arrangement. They slurped and suckled down a bottle and a half each, with increasingly exaggerated fellatio simulations, before Victor was satisfied. 

“Kiss me, Yuuri,” Victor beckoned. He sat tall and straight, his back against the headboard, pillows shoved away, forgotten, looking positively regal. As his husband crawled up to him, leaning in for the kiss, Victor shook his head, covering his lips with two fingers. “Not here, my love,” he smirked against his own digits. And with both Chris and Yuuri’s eyes glued to his every sinful move, Russia’s Treasure rose to his knees, spun as if sliding on the ice, and presented his flawless glutes to men who wanted nothing more than to bury themselves between them. Then, without ceremony, he spread his own cheeks, poking his happy little pucker with a single gentle fingertip.

“Here.” 

His past and present lovers gaped and salivated like the horny dogs they were. 

Chris recovered first. Half full water bottle still in hand, he was beside Victor, leaning against the headboard, and looking at Yuuri. 

“ _Capitaine_ , sir,” Chris reported, “I believe Victor was getting fucked, however briefly, not long ago. I wouldn’t kiss such a dirty mouth.” 

Yuuri’s smile went ear to ear. 

Victor was too slow. 

Chris pinned one of his wrists, Yuuri the other, and the remaining contents of Chris’ water bottle sloshed, frigid, from the dimple at the top of Victor’s sweet crack, down over his exposed asshole. It formed a rivulet that rolled down his perineum to drip and dribble from his balls, which shriveled at the ice-cold contact. 

Victor shrieked and Yuuri clamped him quiet with his free hand over Victor’s gasping mouth. 

The shivers that commenced were so tantalizing, Yuuri and Chris shared a look of triumph over Victor’s head.

“Hydration might keep us healthy in the short term, _mon ami_ , but hygeine has a much farther reaching impact,” Chris smirked.

They let him sit with that tickling sensation another moment, until Victor’s head hung limply from his shoulders and only the occasional shudder traced down his spine. Then Chris grabbed one of the discarded towels from earlier and handed it off to Yuuri, who took his sweet and meticulous time cradling Victor’s cock and balls and jimmying the towel into the crevice of his remarkably well-muscled backside. 

Just as Victor was about to slump backwards, Chris tsked and pinned him again, holding him against the headboard. 

“Where do you think you’re going, baby bee?” Chris teased. “Yuuri hasn’t even gotten to sample the dish yet.”

Yuuri had to put his knees over Victor’s to keep the Russian from squirming. When Chris and Yuuri finally had him immobilized, Yuuri opened up his husband’s cheeks and lowered a hungry mouth to the twitching dark muscle. 

“Yuuri!” Victor gasped when he felt the first swirl of Yuuri’s tongue. His back arched, and Yuuri smacked it in response, pulling his head away.

“Stay still, Victor!” he commanded, going so far as to reach beneath Victor’s legs. He cupped Victor’s balls and set his thumbnail against the the underside, right where ball skin started to fold into taint. If Victor moved, he’d get a _very_ unpleasant sensation. 

Yuuri returned to his ministration, remaining hand holding Victor’s cheeks apart around his asshole so Yuuri could lap and lave. Every pass of his tongue earned an eager twitch from Victor, until it almost felt like Victor was trying to kiss him back: that sweet, musky muscle pushing outward, steepling towards Yuuri in desperate waves of tension. 

“Chris,” Yuuri looked up with a grin, “Do you want to try?”

“ _Mon capitaine, merci_ , so generous,” Chris purred. “Victor, be a doll and hold your pose for once, won’t you?” 

Victor just let out a pained moan as Yuuri’s tongue teased inside of him the barest bit.

Chris released his grip on Victor’s wrists and came around to sit beside Yuuri. 

“Try,” Yuuri encouraged. His hand continued to partition Victor’s cheeks and keep them from clenching together.

Gazing at the slick track Yuuri created between his husband’s cheeks, Chris’ lips puckered and he blew a soft gust of air from Victor’s balls all the way up his taint. He watched Victor’s glutes try to slam together and had to grasp one in each hand to help Yuuri hold them apart.

 _This_ was good.

Without any further tease, Chris’ face tucked into the open groove and he rubbed his stubble along Victor’s taint while he used his teeth to graze over Victor’s more sensitive skin. When Yuuri realized Chris was actually nibbling on Victor’s asshole he had to reach down and squeeze his balls to squash that urge to come. 

Not yet.

It seemed to have a similar effect on Victor, who lurched at the feeling, right into Yuuri’s waiting fingernail. He gasped, but whether his cry was for more or less, whether it was in pain or in pleasure, was impossible to distinguish.

“Now _this_ ,” Chris declared, licking his lips as he rose, “is true Russian cuisine!”

Yuuri could only smirk; Victor was rapidly losing lucidity to the onslaught of his friend and husband’s tongues. They were trading back and forth now, Yuuri taking a turn trying Chris’ techniques, then Chris spearing deeper, flicking his tongue into the bullseye. 

“Please!” Victor begged. “ _Please_.”

God, was there any better noise than hearing your partner beg for you?

“I believe it’s your turn,” Yuuri smirked to Chris, spanking those fine Russian glutes as they fluttered. Victor yelped, then finally broke his position to watch the next round.

Chris reached between his legs to rekindle his arousal. Yuuri caught Chris’ wrist, lifted it up and to the side, and replaced it with his own. If Chris was slightly thicker than Victor he was easily larger than Yuuri, and feeling that heaviness in his palm was an entirely new form of arousal for Yuuri. He stroked, fingers sliding through the old lube and the combined musk of both Yuuri and Victor’s bodies. 

The thought made Yuuri pause, grin. 

Chris had been in both of them, united them in a way that would have been impossible without a third party. Victor had enjoyed this same tool, just like Yuuri. He had the momentary thought that Chris was like a toy, shared and loved and passed back and forth between the pair of them.

“There,” Yuuri purred, gazing down at the flesh that had recovered its beautiful upward arch. “Victor. Come here.” 

Victor was behind their toy, and had been kissing Chris’ neck and shoulders, watching the action below, but at Yuuri’s summons moved in front of Chris once more. 

“Hands and knees,” Yuuri said. “I liked that.” 

“Mm,” Victor agreed, rolling onto all fours, hands braced on the sheets. Chris rose up, sitting back on firm shins, then glanced over at Yuuri.

“Guide me in, oh _capitaine_?” Chris asked. 

Yuuri didn’t realize he’d gotten so hard again from the intimacy of preparing Chris and Victor for one another, but that request nearly made him come. He choked it back, mentally, and clutched the base of his cock in a pressurized ring of fingers to bring himself down physically from the edge. 

He scooched up alongside Chris and hefted the Swiss skater’s cock again, slicked it with a new layer of lube. He had to bend Chris’ cock down to get the head aligned with his husband’s awaiting pucker, pushing that fleshy tip into the dark dimple between those too-taut cheeks. Even in this erotic moment, Yuuri had to take a second to marvel at his luck, to run one palm over the firm skating-toned butt, trying not to giggle at himself. That was the kind of lust he’d reached, the giggly kind. 

“You push it in,” Chris encouraged, hips moving forward just enough to give Yuuri slack. Chris wanted Yuuri to be completely in control here. Not just to avoid any further misunderstanding, but, hot damn: Yuuri’s demeanor since he took over? It was infectious. 

Yuuri’s face was on fire but he pulled on Chris’ cock, the rock solid tool easy to spear into his husband’s waiting, hungry body. Victor made a sound Yuuri adored, and in order not to feel jealous, he said as much:

“Love that slutty noise of yours,” he petted the small of Victor’s back, “right when you get filled up.” 

Both Victor and Chris made a unique babel at hearing Yuuri talk dirty to them. 

Yuuri set his other hand on Chris’ ass, guiding him forward, deeper. 

Yuuri didn’t let Chris pull the same slow trick as earlier. He led Chris into his husband over the course of a few seconds and then dared to smack his hand across Chris’ cheeks when he was fully seated. 

Chris took this for encouragement. 

Whatever kindness and exploratory tempo Chris had taken with Yuuri was gone, replaced by a practiced, aggressive pounding. 

He wasn’t gentle with Victor. 

Which was good. No one in this room needed _gentle_ any longer. They all needed a good, powerful fuck. 

Victor’s groans lowered in tenor and intensity, the two powerful sets of hips drummed wet smacks of saturated skin. And from his angle, Yuuri could see the repetitive lance of succulent penetration. Yuuri was simultaneously super turned on, clutching himself not to jerk off and come insanely just from watching the hypnotizing ebb and flow, and... raging with jealousy. 

But, as he felt around the thorns of that twisty emotion, he realized he wasn’t sure, _exactly who_ he was jealous of. Both his dick and ass felt equally hungry. And he decided to momentarily sedate these urges by playing with his man. One hand gripped the nape of Victor’s neck, making his husband roil and strain into the touch. Meanwhile, he applied a curled index finger to Victor’s nipple, so that as his body lurched back and forth, his nib was gently clawed. 

Chris huffed an approving laugh. 

Emboldened, Yuuri paid attention to the familiarity in this fucking. Victor moved his body, angled himself, made cries and whimpers, in such a practiced fashion. Even at the ferocious pace, there wasn’t a thrust that didn’t seem to land just right. The sight stung less now and Yuuri understood he envied their comfort not because he begrudged them having it, but because he had not yet reached such ease in his own short sex life. Well, that would certainly be handled, if he and Victor kept at it as they had these last months. He smiled. 

He caught Chris at the hip, right as his tempo was about to break apart, and forced the Swiss skater to stop despite Victor’s increasingly loud demands to the contrary. 

Chris looked at Yuuri in question, watched him lube up his cock. Chris made to move from between Victor’s legs, thinking Yuuri wanted a turn, but Yuuri just gave a faint shake of his head.

Dragging his tongue across his lips, he knelt behind Chris, and the Swiss skater’s eyes went wide in surprise as he realized what exactly it was Yuuri intended to do. The idea was unexpected, took a moment to process, but was far from unwelcome. His breathing had slowed since he stopped thrusting, but now it ripped from his throat in open-mouthed pants of desire. 

Yuuri touched Chris’ hip, brow lifting in curiosity, a silent request for permission. 

If Chris hadn’t still been seated deep in Victor’s ass, he would have bunched his own ass out towards Yuuri, but instead he gave an inviting smirk and nodded Yuuri on. He angled his body forward, holding Victor’s hips with both hands and making Victor support both their weight as Yuuri tried to align himself. He was shorter, and so Chris widened his stance, lowering himself down and forcing Victor to do the same until he felt the cool wet tip of Yuuri’s cock against his asshole.

“Chris?” Yuuri whispered. 

Victor had, at this point, through his sex-fogged skull, figured out what was happening and stared back at them, literally salivating. He had hoped Yuuri would do something like this, earlier in the evening, but had no idea what to expect after the incident. His heart soared at the unending surprise-party encased in the body of his new husband. He whimpered, trying to sound encouraging, but was maybe just needy as hell. 

“ _Capitaine_ ,” Chris answered, the words ending in a groan as Yuuri started to sink into him. 

Yuuri’s whole body shuddered as he buried himself in Chris. 

“Don’t you dare come in my husband’s ass.”

And with that, Yuuri thrust. 

Chris couldn’t move. He let the younger man’s thrusts take over and roll through him into Victor. This was going to have to be good enough for Victor for a while, because Chris was useless to do anything beyond take everything in, overwhelmed, drowning in a real-life daydream that a million men and women would pay very large sums of money to enjoy. He gasped. This was all for him! The earlier feeling, the sheer joy of being _”our hunk”_ overtook him. 

And then he couldn’t even think. Yuuri drilled into him using all the same ferocity with which he’d ridden him from beneath. How the actual fuck? The question came from outside his own mind, some detached voice somewhere else. The familiar cavern of Victor spasmed and pulsed around every forced thrust of his cock, blood boiling through the wide veins. The drum of Yuuri, the current of his thumping body slamming Chris forward over Victor, it was not a rhythm one could match or catch up to. 

What had Yuuri said? Don’t come in Victor. Chris whined. 

“I... “ he swallowed, “st-...” and Yuuri did. How was he still so in control of his faculties? 

Chris fell out, sprawled and muscle melted into the mattress and still desperate.

Yuuri rubbed one of his ass cheeks. That was twice tonight Chris had been denied his pleasure. Yuuri would have to take care of that as soon as he had his own. Priorities. 

He took Chris’ place between his husband’s legs and fucking _wailed_ on Victor like a machine. Victor didn’t have time to realize Chris and Yuuri had swapped out of him, but as soon as Yuuri took over his body started to cave and he collapsed his chest down to the sheets to howl into the pillows.

Chris leaned up, still barely able to process appropriate body functionality and said: “holy fuck”, but the words were not really there. It was only dry lips and tongue mouthing his awe at the scene before him. 

Victor was a mess. This was the third time he’d been on the verge of coming.

No - no, he _was_ coming. Oh, _god_ , was he coming. Victor let out a perfect, tortured scream, everyone else at Yu-Topia be damned, then bit into the pillow to stifle the rest of his moans.

He thought that would be the end of it, that he’d scream Yuuri’s name and his husband would come, fill him, be sated, and they could all curl up in the afterglow. 

But Yuuri wasn’t stopping. Wasn’t showing even the slightest signs of stopping.

“Yuuri! _Blyad!_ ” Victor coughed, his insides wrung out, twisted and clinging. “Please… _Boze Moy_....” and even Chris recognized Victor was begging for it to end. 

“Shhh… be good,” Yuuri grunted, and simply continued.

Victor’s eyes rolled high under his shivering eyelids; his face was lost to contortions of ecstasy. He always knew one day he’d fall victim to Yuuri’s stamina, but it hadn’t been like this before. 

Yuuri, with every violent slap, reminded Victor that he might not have Chris’ history, nor Chris’ height, nor Chris’ girth, but he would make his man remember who he was married to.

“Chrisssu!” Victor wailed, somehow adopting the desperate Japanese articulation he’d heard from Minako. 

Chris was still throbbing, having anxiously stroked himself in time to Yuuri’s thrusts but never quite allowed himself to come. He touched Victor’s hip, felt the slamming force of each of Yuuri’s thrusts. “Baby bee,” he soothed.

“Yuuri will go-- all night-- if you don’t help me!” Victor begged between thrusts. “Please -- come for me?!” 

Yuuri laughed, malicious. “He’s right. Heh. You think you can end this, Giacommetti?” 

Chris’ ego was not to be trifled with.

Chris swung himself into place behind Yuuri, forced those hips to stop moving just long enough that he could mount the Japanese skater. He aligned, shoved in, and aimed for Yuuri’s prostate as he sank home.

Unlike Chris, Yuuri wasn’t content to stay still, to be little more than a giant sleeve for Chris’ satisfaction. He kept moving, and they fought for control of the rhythm, rocking a raucous tempo that destroyed Victor beneath them both. The Russian was just trying to keep breathing. He thanked god it was the off-season and there would be no one yelling at him when he limped onto the ice tomorrow. If he limped out onto the ice tomorrow. Hell, if he could even limp out of this _bed_ tomorrow! 

Despite Chris’ best efforts to lead, Yuuri was winning the dance. 

But he couldn't last much longer.

Victor was gone. He was awake, alive, but dead in every way but the clinical sense. Happily so, but probably not far off from passing out. He reached back between his own legs to fondle Yuuri’s balls, coax a conclusion from them, something to save all their lives. It triggered a particularly brutal thrust and a cry of wrought-out ecstasy ground from Victor’s throat, even though he’d never be able to come, maybe not ever again. 

Chris and Yuuri fought to the very fucking end when they both shattered above him, screaming grunts and lust-broken cries.

They all collapsed together, a pile of spent and sweaty mannequins. 

If only they could call room service. They needed so much food and hydration. 

As the minutes ticked away they began to untangle themselves, peeling sticky skin apart. They all stared up at the ceiling, ripples and waves of muscles rolling through aftershocks against one another. 

Yuuri giggled, ever so softly, and Chris followed with a deep throaty laugh, breathless and elated. They both laid an arm across Victor - poor, bow-legged Victor gingerly trying not to move his lower body at all. He grumbled at them, pursed his lips, but he wound up smiling as they laughed, and his two men curled up, Victor sandwiched between them. 

“Well, Yuuri?” Victor whispered at last, as all three of them hovered on the verge of sleep.

“Mmm?”

“Did we give you a night to remember?”

“It’s not over yet,” Yuuri purred, rubbing himself into the spoon of his husband. 

Yuuri had only meant it was very likely they’d wake up in 20 minutes or so, starving and dying of thirst and would get to pal around and forage together before finally snuggling up, properly this time, with blankets and maybe underwear or pajamas, to sleep all huggly and warm. 

But Victor heard something very different indeed. 

Behind them both, Chris, aware of the miscommunication and its many implications, smiled and drifted to sleep.


End file.
